A stitch in time
by Terfle
Summary: Dot has a lot to do, a trousseau doesn't sew itself. Romance, practicality and common sense is woven into each piece of it


**Napkins**

Dot hummed as she started on her mammoth task of sewing her trousseau. Napkins were first. She mused over her good fortune to be taken in by Miss Fisher. Well, she'd sort of barged in and bargained with her over the mending of a stocking. Since then there had been countless hair-raising moments and a few awkward ones over her employer's choices of _gentlemen friends_.

That nice Detective Inspector had taken Miss Fisher's fancy recently although she'd not made a move on him yet. Dot hoped she wouldn't accidently come across any half nakedness from any of Miss Fisher's paramours, especially not from Hugh's boss. The thought of it made her squeak with horror and prick her finger. The first napkin would be kept at the bottom of the pile.

 **Tablecloth**

It was going to be a magnificent tablecloth if she could say so herself. She had stocked up on fine thread at Miss Fisher's behest and was merrily sewing along to the sound of the radio. She'd never seen one before coming to this house. She vowed to have her own radio when she moved into her marital home. With a dining table adorned with a gold thread edged tablecloth, how could her home-to-be, be anything than tasteful and respectable? She had Miss Fisher to thank for that.

She cocked her ear to her employer's arrival. Hopefully she wasn't bringing the new flavour of the week back. Miss Fisher was like that with the male of the species. Dot had known about women like that but Miss Fisher was different. She was refined, generous, kind and just as importantly, rich. Which would explain her behaviour as everyone knew that rich people could get away with anything. She shook her head and carried on.

 **Bed linen**

As a respectable Catholic girl, Dot never took to a man until she met her Hugh. She knew it would happen one day, just not how. Nobody had mentioned how tingly your hand could get when you linked them with someone else's, nor the desire to want to kiss for a lot longer than you expected to. She couldn't feel that with just anybody. It would be a while until Hugh earned enough to get them a genteel house but she was content to wait.

Miss Fisher was having a grand time accompanying Detective Inspector Robinson to so many of his cases. Many evenings they sat down with a game and a drink like old friends and sometimes she could swear that a shimmer darted between them across the chess board. She liked a good romance as much as anyone but wasn't sure if pursuing a dalliance with each other was an altogether sensible thing. But then you only had to be in a car with Miss Fisher to see that she cared nothing for sensibilities.

 **Chemise**

She had needed to make slight alterations to the pattern but the first chemise was nearly ready. She had been given free reign over her spending but in the face of such extravagance, she had chosen modestly. It wouldn't do to be so spoilt. Threading the needle, she debated about the exact pattern she should embroider on the hem. Roses seemed like a safe choice. This was going to be a more sensible garment than those flimsy things that Miss Fisher often wore.

Speaking of her employer, she seemed a little deflated recently. She hoped that Detective Inspector Robinson hadn't got anything to do with it. He hadn't been calling in a while. The whiskey bottle had stayed sadly unplundered. It would be a shame if angry words had been spoken between them. He was the most decent man Miss Fisher had had by far not to mention he'd stayed around longer than the others.

 **Wedding dress**

Miss Fisher had outdone herself. Instead of Dot painstakingly sewing her own gown like people of her position was wont to do, Madame Fleuri had been commissioned to do it. Dot had protested but her employer had told her that it was to be her wedding gift. Dot had insisted on many adjustments herself so that there was a bit of her influence in there too. The embroidery on the bodice, hem and veil was embellished in her own hand and a pair of her grandmother's earrings was to be pinned onto the neckline. The lace was incredible. There would never be a gown like it in her family and she was determined to make the most of it.

Miss Fisher was happier these days, the spark in her eye had flared back and she glowed in the presence of the Detective Inspector. He wasn't too distant either, Dot noticed how his eyes lingered on the lady a little longer than necessary. Dot had been around long enough to know that a marriage proposal was not on the cards for her employer. But…romance can blossom in a multitude of ways and you never know what the Lord has in store for you.


End file.
